


The Tale of Little Red and the Lamia

by listlessness



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Black Sabith Week 2020, F/F, fairy tale analogies, ghost children, readers can have a little bit of fluff as a treat, schoolgirl crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/pseuds/listlessness
Summary: Sabrina is asked to tell to the ghost children at the Academy of Unseen Arts a bedtime story.Later, she'll say tucking a half-dozen ghosts into bed in the middle of the afternoon was the reason for her story.
Relationships: Quentin Corwin & Sabrina Spellman, Sabrina Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33
Collections: Black Sabith Week 2020





	The Tale of Little Red and the Lamia

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for [Black Sabith Week](https://blacksabithweek.tumblr.com/), for day five - alternative universe.
> 
> Now, admittedly, this isn't quite an alternative universe, but it still sort of fits, if you squint and look sideways. Because hey, if being a fan of Once Upon a Time taught me anything, it's that fairy tales are sort of alternate universes. And don't we all want to live in a fantasy world?
> 
> I also wrote this in 1.5 sittings, which isn't my usual jam.

The ghost children rarely made their presence known to Sabrina anymore. Sometimes, if it was quiet and dark, she could swear she could see one of them peering at her from around a corner or from behind a bookshelf. It never mattered how quickly she turned around, though; the children would be gone, with barely a giggle in their wake. 

A number of children had been added to their cohort over the years. The deaths of students were no longer the result of harrowing (or so Sabrina hoped), but as a result of mishaps and disasters. Witch hunters, angels, and stubborn students trying magicks far beyond their capabilities meant the ghost children were never without new playmates. Even so, it was unusual for any of them to speak directly to Sabrina, the way they once had. 

Except Quentin. 

Time moved strangely for ghosts; Sabrina had learnt that much. The boy would pop in and out of her life, and a single conversation would extend over several months, with barely any mention of time passing on his end. She had learnt to accept it, even if it could be a touch jarring. 

It was one such afternoon, as Sabrina sat in the library with a book of spells in front of her, that Quentin appeared. He walked up to her, a rare sight in of itself, and tugged on her sleeve. At least, it was an attempted tug. Instead of a pull on her clothes, it felt more like a tickle, as though a thread had come loose and kept brushing along her skin. 

'Will you read us a bedtime story, Miss?' 

Baffled by his unprompted question, Sabrina looked about, trying to gauge the time. 'It's the middle of the afternoon.' 

'Is it?' he asked, as though he hadn't realised. He likely hadn't. Then, 'is that a no?'' 

'I didn't say that.' 

Closing the book, Sabrina gave Quentin a confused smile. She didn't have any younger siblings, and none of her friends had had siblings young enough to require bedtime stories. Although Quentin did seem a bit old to be read to (his years spent as a ghost notwithstanding), she supposed being on his own for so long without parents probably meant he missed such experiences. 

'Let's get you tucked in.' 

Sabrina had never been to a ghost's bedroom before. She was quite surprised to find there was one. 

The room Quentin took her to was down several narrow and twisting corridors within the depths of the Academy. There were several classroom doors she recognised- Latin, alchemy, higher-level invocation. But, beyond those, there was a shimmering and almost invisible veil through which they stepped. Her skin prickled, her hair stood on end, and she found herself passing through into the ghost children's hidden quarters. 

Beds were laid out in a semi-circle. Before her, sitting upon the ends, were several of Quentin's peers. They looked up at her expectantly as Quentin bounded onto one of the beds and patted the foot of the mattress for her to sit upon. 

Hugging the book to her chest, Sabrina felt a dozen pair of eyes upon her as she crossed the floor. Her heels clicked on the ground as she took her time, wondering just what story she was going to tell. She couldn't just recite the three-part spell to conjure a second familiar. 

She sat down upon the edge of the bed. Almost immediately, the children dove under the blankets, wriggling about as they got themselves comfortable. Even Quentin squirmed about, pulling the old, ratty blanket to his chin. 

'Please, Miss,' he said. 'A story.' 

'Oh. Um.' 

Her mind had drawn a blank. She had read _The Little Prince_ in middle school, but she couldn't remember how it went. All the fairy tales she knew felt a little too kitsch and happy for ghost children. She'd have to make one up. 

'Once upon a time,' she started. 

Almost immediately she was cut off. 

'Boring! I've heard this one.' 

'Shh!' Quentin hissed to the boy who had complained. 'Let Miss speak.' Then, to Sabrina, 'please.' 

'Once upon a time,' Sabrina repeated. She waited, and when no complaint came, she continued. 'There was a young girl named... Little Red.' 

'Why?' asked a girl. 'Did she wear a red cape? I think I've heard this one, too. It seems a bit contrived to name a child over a piece of clothing they won't wear until they're grown.' 

'Uh. No,' Sabrina said, stumbling a little at the girl's eloquence. 

'Did she have red hair?' asked another girl. 

'No...' 

'Oh! I know!' said the boy who had initially complained. 'I bet it's because she was covered in blood from her enemies, and so she was always _red_!' 

The children cheered in agreement. It appeared that, whether they were ghosts or not, certain garish and gross-out ideals still stuck through. 

A fairy-horror story it was, then. 

'Yes. She was named Little Red because she had been born during a fearsome battle between the Dark Lord and the False God,' Sabrina finally settled upon. That seemed to work. 'And her cloak had been soaked through in blood, which had been stained. No matter how many times it had been washed, it had been forever stained, a reminder of the strength of witches and warlocks over angels.' 

Looking over her shoulder, Sabrina saw Quentin grinning up at her, seemingly happy to just have a story being told. The lighting in the room had dimmed somewhat as the children settled in. 

'Who did she live with?' asked one of the children- a girl who, up until that moment, had been quiet. 

'Her aunties,' Sabrina replied. 'Two very different but very loving witches. Her mother and father had been killed in the battle, you see. They had been delivering some very important information, but the enemy had found out and taken their lives.' 

'Oh no! They must have been brave.' 

' _Very_ brave,' Sabrina agreed. 

She stood and, after placing the book on the bed for safe keeping, took two steps to Quentin's side. As she spoke, she pulled up the blankets to his chin and began to tuck him one. 

'One day, Little Red decided to visit her favourite teacher in the woods.' 

'Why? Quentin asked. 

'Why what?' 

'Why was the teacher her favourite?' 

This was how story time was going to go, apparently. Two sentences and a question. Sabrina suddenly had a greater appreciation for why her friends had either been the youngest or only child of their parents. 

'Well... her teacher was sweet. And kind. And smart. And, most importantly, Little Red knew there was more to her than a lot of people thought.' 

After she tucked Quentin in, Sabrina moved onto the next bed. In it lay the eloquent girl. She grinned up at Sabrina as her blankets were smoothed. 

'So one day, Little Red packed up a picnic lunch to visit her teacher.' 

'What was in it?' the girl asked, still smiling up at her. 

'Lots of treats from her aunties. Freshly baked bread and cupcakes and doughnuts.' 

'What about the skull of one of her enemies?' asked a boy behind her. 

Sabrina clicked her tongue. Then, with a nod, 'sure. Why not. Baked goodies and the skull of an enemy.' 

'Excellent!' 

'Now, it was very, very important that Little Red stuck to the path while she made her way through the woods. There are many great and terrible things that live in the woods, and Little Red knew that. Her aunties had always told her to be safe and stick to the path. But Little Red loved adventure, and she also knew that while there were many great and terrible things that lived in the woods, there were also many great and _wonderful_ things.' 

The girl she had tucked in squealed in delight as Sabrina moved to the the boy with a streak of bloodlust. He would have been rambunctious while alive, Sabrina knew that much. 

'Little Red strayed off the path and she saw all the things the woods had to offer.' 

'Like bones?' the boy asked. 

' _Lots_ of bones.' 

'And dead things?' 

'A lot of dead things, including sacrifices to the Dark Lord. And as she wandered further into the woods, she made a sacrifice of her own, which made her cape even redder than when she entered.' 

The boy kicked his legs and laughed, sending his freshly-smoothed blankets back into a mess. Sabrina tuttered, but she went back to tucking him in, teasingly tightening the blankets as she did, as though preparing a sacrifice of her own. 

'And while she was making her sacrifice, she was met by a lamia.' 

'What's a lamia?' Quentin asked. 

'I know!' the boy Sabrina was tucking in called out. 'It's a demon that eats children!' 

'I thought it was a snake,' the boy Sabrina was tucking in said. 'Or a succubus.' 

'Close,' Sabrina said, trying to keep judgement from her voice. These were children, after all. Ghost children. 'A lamia is a woman created by the False God, who had her children taken away by Eve. The False God punished her when she tried to rescue her children, and turned her into a beast. And this lamia was the most beautiful Little Red had ever seen, with thick, black hair and the palest of blue eyes.' 

'Was she going to eat Little Red?' the boy asked, still stuck on that particular idea. 

'Maybe,' Sabrina conceded. 'Little Red didn't know. But she was a very trusting girl, and knew no matter what, the Dark Lord would keep her safe if she kept up her prayers and worship. The lamia asked her where she was going, and Little Red told her that she was off to visit her favourite teacher.' 

'Little Red sounds stupid,' one of the girls drawled. 'I would have kicked the lamia's teeth in.' 

'Thomasin, you drowned after having your head shoved into a toilet during your Harrowing,' a boy replied. 'I don't think you're in any place to be saying you'd be kicking a lamia's teeth in.' 

'Shut _up_ , Waitstill!' Thomasin shot back. Then, quieter, 'not in front of Miss, it's embarrassing.' 

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sabrina bit her tongue. Ghost children. Right. She'd have to remember that. 

' _So_ ,' she started loudly and abruptly as she went to tuck in Waitstill. 'The lamia asked where Little Red's favourite teacher lived. And Little Red, knowing the Dark Lord would never lead her astray- and, yes, Thomasin, perhaps a little foolishly- told the lamia that her favourite teacher lived in the middle of the woods in a cottage that always had a fire burning.' 

'See?' Thomasin said, screwing her nose up. 'Said she was an idiot.' 

'Did the lamia eat the teacher?' Quentin asked, apparently not at all interested in the bickering of his fellow ghosts. 

Sabrina moved onto the next bed. She only had two more children to tuck in. A ghostly smile greeted her as she went about pulling up the blanket, noting that each progressive bed had been increasingly messy and needing to be tended to. 

'Little Red didn't know the woods as good as the lamia, so it took her some time to reach the house. And when she arrived, she saw her favourite teacher, sitting in her favourite chair in front of the fireplace, reading a book.' 

The child's eyes grew round as Sabrina tucked the blanket in. 

'Little Red approached her teacher and immediately noticed something was wrong.' 

'What was wrong with her, Miss?' the smallest girl asked. 

'The first thing her teacher asked her was whether Little Red had been keeping up with her lessons. Little Red was a very good student, and her teacher never needed to ask. She read her dark scriptures every night and recited her prayers every morning.' 

The children collectively nodded at her. 

'But her teacher didn't mean _those_ lessons. And when her teacher asked if she had been honouring her aunties, she knew what she was dealing with.' 

A gasp sprung up around the room. 

'The inverted cross above her teacher's fireplace had been rendered into the Latin cross, and the book she was reading was not her beloved Satanic Bible, but instead a copy of the King James Bible.' 

'No!' Thomasin cried out, suddenly enraptured with the story again. 

'Her teacher was an angel?' Quentin asked. 

Sabrina leapt to the next bed and went to act it out, but her fingers only sunk into the ghost child's body. Even so, the child squealed and kicked about it. Laughing a little, Sabrina shook her head and pulled the blankets up. 

'An angel was trying to trick her! They went to grab Little Red, but she was a clever girl and she jumped away, just in time. Little Red began to cast a binding and banishing spell- ' 

'When the lamia burst in.' 

She had been so engaged with her own storytelling that Sabrina hadn't even noticed Lilith entering the bedroom. She stood there, her hands resting upon her hips, one cocked to the side as she watched Sabrina pull up the last blanket. 

Lilith walked in, one foot crossing in front of the other, her hands falling to swing by her sides. She studied each of the ghost children as she spoke, pivoting to face each of them in turn. 

'The lamia was Little Red's teacher all along, and had been sent to keep a careful eye on her. Little Red had a nasty habit of getting herself in over her head, and finding herself in an angel's grasp was no exception.' 

'Told you she was an idiot,' Thomasin muttered. 

'Now a lamia is not wicked, and she certainly doesn't eat children. What she does instead is act as a protector, for all those little children whose parents can no longer keep them safe from all the... what was it? Great and terrible things that hide in the woods. And Little Red’s teacher had looked out for her so very long, and had vowed to keep her safe.' 

'So what did she do?' Waitstill asked. 

Lilith looked at him, one corner of her mouth twitching up. 'She ate the angel right up instead. Tore its heart out and ate it right in front of its eyes, so the last thing the angel witnessed as it returned to its False God was the great power and might of the lamia. And, I suppose, Little Red.' 

She looked ever so smug. Sabrina rolled her eyes as she collected her book from Quentin's bed and went to stand beside her. 

'Now lights out. Even ghosts need to rest at some point.' 

The room had dimmed into only a faint candlelit glow. As Lilith clapped her hands, the remaining light was summarily extinguished. 

Sabrina may have been rendered night-blind from the sudden change in visibility, but that didn't happen for Lilith. She found her hand was taken in a shockingly cold grasp and she was led out from the room and through the chilling veil. 

Lilith's pace was quick, and withing moments they had left the nighttime corridor and found themselves back in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Her hand was still held, though, and Sabrina found herself eyeing it. 

'A lamia? _Really_?' Lilith asked, rolling her eyes. 'That's offensive and you know it.' 

'Would you have rather been a big, bad wolf?' Sabrina replied, tucking the book under her arm. 

Tilting her chin up, Lilith peered down her nose at Sabrina. She was barely a couple of inches taller than Sabrina in flat feet, but with her tall heels, she was almost towering. 

The twist of her lips was somewhere between a dark smile and a smirk. Her fingers squeezed, her nails biting just a hint as she leant over. 

'Sabrina, dear, I'd eat you all up.' 

She let go of Sabrina's hand abruptly. Then, pivoting on the ball of her foot, she turned and walked away, her hips swinging one way and then the other. With a shiver and a sigh, Sabrina clutched the book to her chest. 

There'd be no woodsman to save her if Lilith decided to follow through with that. And, maybe, Sabrina didn't want to be rescued. 


End file.
